


know it all

by ashley_in_the_know



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Briarwood Arc AU, Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 19:29:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13887597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashley_in_the_know/pseuds/ashley_in_the_know
Summary: she still spends her days keeping track of the things that she knows, because it's the only way she knows to keep herself sane





	know it all

Vesper used to pride herself on knowing more than all of her siblings. Being called a know-it-all was hardly the insult they meant it to be, and it honestly bothered her when they started bestowing that title on Percy more. But while Percy was undeniably the smartest of their siblings, Vesper was the most knowledgeable, and that had meant  _everything_ to her.

And then the Briarwoods came, and her world was forever changed.

* * *

 

She still spends her days keeping track of the things that she knows, because it’s the only way she knows to keep herself sane.

She knows that she’s alive still, because surely Pelor would be kinder to her in death. (She still prays to him on occasion, even though she can feel that the gods have long since abandoned Whitestone.)

She knows that she’s been in the dungeon for approximately five years, because, honestly, there’s not much else to do than keep track of the days gone by on the walls of her cell. (She occasionally wonders what will happen when she runs out of room. She knows it’s going to happen soon. She knows it won’t be good.)

She knows that Ludwig and her parents are alive down here as well, because she can hear them on occasion. And,  _gods_ , hearing her father weep is something that will haunt her dreams until she dies. (Alternatively, she knows that Julius, Oliver, and Whitney are all dead, because she’d seen their bodies with her own eyes, and that is also something that will haunt her for eternity.)

She knows that Cassandra is alive, because Lady Briarwood will sometimes parade her around the dungeons, like some kind of sick show pony. The worst part is how her baby sister occasionally looks like she genuinely enjoys Delilah’s company.

Percy’s fate remains the sole mystery of her family. She knows that he survived the Briarwoods’ initial attack, if only because his screams had echoed through the dungeons for weeks on end as Dr. Ripley tortured him. But that was years ago, and he’s now only spoken of in hushed whispers, wondering if he’s out there alive somewhere.

She knows that whatever the Briarwoods have been planning for is happening very soon. For one, Dr. Ripley has joined the remaining de Rolos as a prisoner, much to her quite vocal chagrin. (And  _oh_ if only Vesper could move stone and earth, or walk through walls, Anna wouldn’t have to worry about what Sylas and Delilah have planned for her.) Speaking of Sylas and Delilah. They’ve been...flustered since their return from Emon, especially the last few days. Something very strange is happening in Whitestone, and that’s saying something for a city ruled by the undead.

She knows that strangers have entered the castle, likely having used the passageway that the Briarwoods had never discovered. There are too many footsteps, muffled voices that blend together, too far away for her to make anything out. They’ve likely stopped at Ripley’s cell, which keeps Vesper from calling out. If they’re friends of Ripley’s, it’s best to not draw attention to herself.

She knows the sound of Ripley’s laugh as it bounces through the corridor, immediately putting her on edge. Ripley is as twisted as the Briarwoods, perhaps even more so, and she’s sure nothing  _good_  can come from her sounding that delighted.

She knows she’s about to be discovered when she hears soft footsteps descending a flight of stairs, accompanied by a series of animal grunts. She can just see the faint glow of torchlight beginning to round the corner when she hears a soft, feminine voice.

“Stay right here for me, darling? If there’s anyone down here, I don’t want to frighten them, alright?” More animal noises, almost mournful. “If I need you, buddy, I’ll call for you. I promise.”

She knows that discovery is inevitable, but that doesn’t stop her from shrinking back into the far corner of her cell when a figure rounds the corner. She hears a whispered “ _holy shit”_ as light washes over her, followed by a louder “Cassandra?”.

She knows her eyes are wide, brow knit with confusion, as she looks up into dark eyes that look almost black in the dim light. “I...I beg your pardon?” she asks, because it’s the only response she can muster to being addressed by her sister’s name.

The woman frowns, taken aback, and her pause gives Vesper time to take in more details. Bright blue feathers are tucked into dark hair that’s been braided back, revealing slightly pointed ears. There’s a longbow and quiver slung across her back, leather armor protecting her chest, and a dagger just barely visible, tucked into a boot. “You are Cassandra de Rolo, aren’t you?” she asks, pulling tools from her belt and setting to work on the lock to Vesper’s cell.

“No, I’m not,” she says, regretting it immediately when the woman pulls the lock picks from the door and draws back warily.

“Are you a ghost then?” the woman asks, running a hand down her face. “Because,  _gods,_ you look just like him. Same eyes, same nose, and I was  _so sure..._ but, he said everyone else is dead.” She’s talking more to herself now than to Vesper, and Vesper knows she needs to get the conversation back on track before the woman panics and runs off.

“My name is Vesper de Rolo,” she starts. “Cassandra is my sister, and I assure you that I am very much alive.” She moves to the front of the cell, reaches a hand out through the bars and prays.

The woman takes her hand cautiously, gasping loudly when her fingers curl around flesh and bone. “He said you were dead,” she repeats. “He said that everyone else was dead.”

Hope is flaring in her chest, even though logic tells her that she must be dreaming. Somehow, she knows she isn’t, that perhaps Pelor has answered her prayers after all this time. “Who told you we were all dead?” she asks, tears starting to prick at the corners of her eyes.

“Percy,” she says automatically. “Percival; your brother.”

For the first time in five years, happy tears are falling down Vesper’s cheeks. She manages a smile, the foreign sensation making the tears fall faster.

“My brother doesn’t know everything.”


End file.
